


Unsound

by Juvenoia



Series: Interlude [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, Horror, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Volume 3 (RWBY), Pre-Volume 4 (RWBY), Survival, Vale (RWBY), Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28521003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juvenoia/pseuds/Juvenoia
Summary: Blake awakens in a hospital in Vale after the disaster at Beacon. After checking in on everyone, she bolts and is left to aimlessly wander the remains of the city. A chance encounter with a civilian in need leads her on a treacherous detour.
Series: Interlude [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664974





	Unsound

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was beta'd by the excellent patrician_lurker (please check out their work on AO3 and FFN).

There was not much to the sky, but she found herself getting lost peering into it stubbornly. It was a still white, like staring into a finely painted wall. Sometimes, she would find her eyes growing too dry, and blinking began to feel like a betrayal. Like she would miss something if she tore her eyes away for just a wink. Somehow, she was convinced that something there was worth the effort. Her neck even began to hurt from having it pitched so high for so long. Still she remained, like the trees she caught a glimpse of when the pain of staring ever upwards was too much. On those occasions, she’d become faintly acquainted with where she stood.

A fine mist hovered above dewy grass, quite the departure from the wall of fog beyond the trees surrounding the clearing. Despite the muggy conditions, the girl found herself very numb to the sensations in her body. She never dwelled on anything below her line of sight, always locked to the same position until having to surrender for just a moment.

There was a searing beginning to creep into the backs of her eyes, and try as she might to fight it down, she felt something coming down her face. She tore her head away as she had done so many times before, blinking viciously. The sensation continued, and she noticed small droplets falling to the grass before her. It felt like her eyes were being skewered in their very sockets and plunging the balls of her hands into them did little to soothe.

Through the pain, anxiety began to well as it dawned that she was not looking to the sky. Wrenching her neck upwards, she found her eyes would not obey. Digging her digits into inflamed lids, she pried until they relented. Quivering eyes manifested a fuzzy image, some indistinct shape could be seen among the sea of white. The boiling in the rear of her eyes could have subsided for all she knew, for it was what she saw that now captivated everything in her being.

The shape was not organic, more angular with peaks on its top and corners. There were small arms sticking out of the bottom, seeming to shake in a nonexistent breeze. A word came to her then: house. She was looking at the bottom side of a house floating in an ocean of white.

For the first time in Blake’s life, she felt an incredible longing.

* * *

The first thing she was aware of was the deep ache from head to toe. It was a dull pain, radiating outwards to her limbs. Her arms felt heavy, and it took a moment for her vision to come to. The moment her eyes snapped open, she immediately shut them and recoiled at the brightness. Another minute and she realized she wasn’t laying on cold cement anymore. She flexed her hand with some difficulty, finding it lacking a weight that had been there before. Blake rolled onto her side, with a wince. Something on her lower abdomen was not happy about that action. A hand rose to meet her face as she slowly cracked open one eye. She was staring at the floor, easier than glaring into the bright fluorescent lights above.

Slowly, she moved her gaze upwards. First was the fabric of a curtain, then the distinct smell of antiseptic, followed by the gentle scuffing of shoes against linoleum around her. She finally looked down at herself and realized gauze had been wrapped tightly around her midsection. Somewhere between, she found the courage to sit up. The cot beneath her jostled with her ungraceful motion, and her eyes continued to adjust.

It took Blake a few beats to register exactly where she was. A hospital ward, possibly an open one with herself occupying a small cubicle shrouded by curtains. She could hear the low mumbling of people beyond, along with small blips from monitors and the like. There was a clanging beside her as the curtains were drawn aside. Her hand immediately grasped the bow atop her head to ensure it was still there, as she met the gaze of a short, beady-eyed woman in navy scrubs. Blake grimaced at the IV line in her wrist, noting how it pulled with her rushed motion. The nurse looked her over rather puzzled, but a tinge amused. Pulling the curtains closed, she rounded the side of the cot, discarding a manilla folder into some chair.

“Here, let me get that for you.”

Blake paused, before relinquishing her hand to the woman. With deft hands, she removed the line and covered the pin-prick-sized hole with a cotton ball and surgical tape. The nurse stood back, retrieved the folder, then thumbed through it. A pen rested above her left ear, which she quickly withdrew to mark something down. Something about that motion made Blake’s skin crawl. With a notable click to disengage the tip, the short woman motioned beside the bed.

“Your things are there, and you’re free to go.”

Glancing to the side, Gambol Shroud was set atop a neatly folded coat that was indeed not hers. Just as Blake was about to mention it, the nurse turned heel and raked the curtains back. The terrible groan of metal on metal made her flinch. Just as quickly as she had appeared, the nurse vanished leaving Blake still reeling. It was surreal to see the rest of the ward. Everything was relatively calm compared to what she remembered before losing consciousness. Some curtains were drawn, others were opened to empty cubicles. This was not a trauma ward, more general than anything. The atmosphere was anything short of bustling. It was a strange sort of calm, chilling in its own way. She rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand trying to get a hold of something.

Beacon fell, she remembered that much. Grimm overrunning the school and the White Fang. Her peers doing their part or running. And—oh, right— her team. She recalled exactly what led her to this hospital bed, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it just yet. Perhaps it was the recency or just the cloudiness in her brain, the girl had a bit of a headache coming on. She heard heavy footfalls to her right, and Blake steeled herself long enough to look up. A familiar towheaded young man met her gaze, face awash in relief.

“Blake, there you are!”

Sun Wukong’s right hand was notably scrunched up in the curtain that had previously enclosed Blake’s cubicle. It seemed everyone was taking out something on the poor thing. Oddly, some part of her was elated to see Sun, another part grew concerned when his smile dimmed.

“You okay?”

“Never better,” she quipped. Her voice came out a little weaker than anticipated.

He brightened up at that, despite her lacking delivery. Sun was more solemn than usual, absent were his usual animated gestures. It was off putting to say the least. Nonetheless, he closed the space like he was taking everything in stride.

“Took me a minute to find you, they have all these lines for different departments and I got turned around like twice,” Sun shrugged, pulling a chair who possessed one rouge leg that skidded with a screech loud enough to rival the curtain. Blake could see Sun cringe to his core, before managing to sit in the most casual way possible in an attempt to play it off.

“I’m stoked you’re alright.”

 _Can’t say the same for everyone_ , she finished for him internally.

It was Blakes turn to shrug, which she managed with some difficulty. Shifting around, even while sitting, pulled her wound in weird ways. She studied him for a moment, noting the downward slope of his shoulders and the weary glint in his eyes. Blake opened her mouth to speak, finding it dry.

Sun gave a pregnant sigh, followed by a weak, “yeah?”

“Tell me what happened, Sun,” she intoned.

“Are ya… _sure_ you wanna know?”

Blake shot him a look square in his eyes. No bushes would be beaten around today, much to Sun Wukong’s chagrin.

“There’s a lot to it. After that we evacuated, there was this bright flash. Huge! I mean, like being right up next to a lighthouse. Anyways, they got us down to Vale, and those that were injured were brought to the industrial district’s general hospital—which is where we are, by the way. I think most Beacon students were brought here, actually. Vale itself is kinda screwed, there’s a lot of grimm out there and I’ve heard about some relief effort being put together. It’s only been about a day or two. Some of the boarder’s been compromised, too. Real shitshow.”

“This is really bad.”

Sun merely nodded disheartened, finding the wall behind Blake interesting for the time being. The weight about his shoulders seemed to double, as he pitched forward to rest his arms on his knees wringing his hands together. Blake brought a hand to her temple, apprehension welling where there should have been concern.

“What about—,” the words got stuck in her throat just trying.

“I know you and Yang were brought here. I’m not so sure about Weiss and Ruby, though.”

Something akin to a lead weight fell in Blake’s stomach, the shock of which flashed across her face if Sun’s sudden surprise was any indicator. She did her best to quell it, which proved ineffective as she found her voice rising.

“Y-Yang, is she okay?”

“In and out, but—,” the blond was now standing, arms extended before him, “Blake, hey, you’re lookin’ a little pale. Are you sure this isn’t too much for you?”

Blake’s voice was hoarse, edging on panicked, “ _Sun!_ ”

A nurse appeared beside the drawn curtain, stern eyes that spoke of a woman all business. She had a death grip on some clipboard, posture stiff as could be.

“Excuse me, we have other patients receiving care. I’m going to have to ask you to quiet down.”

Blake’s nerves were already on high, and she decided then and there that she was done wasting time in that ward. The girl swung her legs off the bed doing her best to ignore the angry stab wound, grabbed her things, and led a very confused Sun out into the corridor with her by the wrist.

It took the appearance of two familiar faces for her to relent her march else she’d risk walking right into team JNPR’s own Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie. Blake found herself able to breathe a little easier at the presence of more people she knew, though no less caught up in the frenzy of the news relayed to her courtesy of Sun.

The four of them had found some inlet in the long corridor that housed a vending machine. Far enough from the ward Blake had woken up in to not catch the ire of the strait-laced nurse when Nora practically screamed about the dispenser’s existence. Adjacent to the machine was a metal bench. Blake found herself unable to sit, mind too busy abuzz with everything. Thankfully, Sun was doing most of the talking.

She was in no condition to go searching for anyone, but it ate away at her that she didn’t know. Blake tried to remember what she could that last night. She recalled the grimm and the knot in her stomach when she noticed the insignia of the White Fang. Her scuffle in what remained of the cafeteria, followed by the narrow escape. She found a shiver went up her spine at that. She remembered fading in and out when she was on the airship platform, muttering apologies tearfully to an unresponsive Yang. The girl could vaguely remember seeing other teammates before everything became a blur. Then it hit her, Ren and Nora were also there. Surely, they were more lucid than she was then.

Sun was in the midst of ranting about the hospital’s weird floor lines when she interjected, earning curious glares from three pairs of eyes. Blake paused for a moment to keep her voice steady.

“Did you two see what happened to Weiss and Ruby?”

Nora’s eyes brightened at that, and if her mouth wasn’t full Blake was sure she would have said something. It was Ren that spoke up.

“We saw Weiss yesterday. Most of the people from the fallout were brought here—”

“Ruby’s fine, too,” Nora cut in.

“Is what she told us,” he continued. “Just before her father came for her. She was rather dejected. I believe she came to see about you and Yang, but it was so soon you were both unconscious.”

Blake paused, finding some mix of relief and faint exhaustion. “I see. Was that all?”

Ren gave an earnest shrug. “There wasn’t much time, that was all she really said. Nora and I saw her in passing, we’ve been looking for Jaune and Pyrrha since we got here.”

Nora gave an uncharacteristic sigh, before trading a small smile with Ren. She then stood, brushing off her skirt and placing her hands on her hips.

“You wouldn’t believe it, but this is the first vending machine we’ve seen since we scoped this place out. I swear we’ve walked all one hundred floors of this place,” Nora scoffed.

“Oh yeah, Blake do you want anything? There’s tea,” Sun offered, fishing around in his pockets for something. What he pulled out was a lien bill with tape on one side. Nora made a noise of bemusement.

“Watch this,” Sun beamed, sliding the bill into the machine, then using the tape to pull it back out. The charge in the machine counted up phony credits, earning declarations of it being a genius move from Nora. Blake and Ren shared a collective sigh, both being a little too fatigued to care much about the hijinks.

Ren paused for a beat, working up something of a slight smile. He then turned to Blake. “If I may ask, how is your wound?”

Blake was on the cusp of zoning out again before starting. She cleared her throat, a little hoarse.

“Sore, I’m lucky that was all.”

Ren nodded in his usual subdued manner, fingering his sleeve. “Indeed, Nora and I had a few scuffs.”

His features twinged, nearly dropping the lifted corners of his mouth. Ren gave a small exhale.

“Blake, did you happen to see anyone familiar when you woke up? Any students?”

The look on his face was almost piteous, if completely agog.

“Aside from Sun, no.”

Something about the dimmed glint in his eye let her know this was another false turn in a search. She felt that on a more personal level than most knew. Blake found herself wanting to conjure up some words of affirmation, something to smooth over the mood in these dire straits. Some infectious optimism from her leader may have been the touch, but Blake found a subject change in order in her leader’s absence.

She swallowed a lump in her throat, “be honest with me, how bad is it out there?”

“A catastrophe,” he stated curtly. “There were evacuations, sirens for hours.”

“I take it there was a break of some kind.”

“We heard whispers of a relief effort in the southeast while walking the halls, but,” Ren feebly shook his head. “There’s so much destruction and not to mention grimm.”

Blake felt a tad inundated on those people’s behalf. Somehow hearing it from Ren in such a state had more bite than Sun. With even the most stoic shaken, this wasn’t going to be something to take lightly. Not that she’d expected to in the first place, this was no laughing matter. Everything about this scenario was a lot to grapple with. Blake still had to handle the apparent dissolving of her team. Suddenly she found something of substance to say.

“I’m sure you’ll find something soon, Ren,” she replied softly.

Ren’s eyes were staring forward at nothing in particular, with only a slight shrug to acknowledge her sentiment. Blake would have wrinkled her nose at that, but found it too tiresome and she leaned back into the wall to watch a nothing in particular of her own to the right.

The vending machine eventually spat out an error, which led to Sun walking away with only a tea bottle to show for it. Nora retracted her awe at their little scheme being squandered.

The four eventually settled onto the bench, which wound up being cold enough for Blake to put that coat-that-wasn’t-hers to use. The tea had a pretty bitter taste, but Blake found she didn’t care either way. She was parched and her mouth felt like it hadn’t seen a drop of liquid in a century. She’d pulled her knees up to her chest and found herself staring at the hospital’s walls. Stark white seemed really familiar for some reason, as did the cold. Her mind reached a certain kind of stillness, and she could think for once.

Okay, all four teammates are alive to say the least. No one had any eyes on Ruby except for Weiss, but as far as she was concerned, she could take her teammate’s word. So far as Blake knew, Weiss was in Atlas now with her family. That meant half of team RWBY was alright. The other half was what concerned her the most. An arm curled around her knees, drawing them tighter and sending a small strike of pain to her wound from flexing the wrong way. There was a discomfort bubbling in Blake’s mind. She knew what was supposed to come next.

“Hey, I don’t think I remember you having a jacket,” Sun’s voice echoed in the hall playfully.

It took Blake a moment to register what he was referring to, and her idle fingers pulled at the sleeve as if to remind her where she was. Come to think of it, the material was rather nice. The inside was definitely insulated. Blake gave a faintly amused shrug.

“It kind of just appeared when I came to. Not mine.”

Rather curious herself, she dropped her legs to the floor and weaseled it off. Pulling the hood aside and holding the tag between her index and thumb, some scribbled mess of an initial was written in faded marker. Sun did his best to stifle a laugh nearing on a snort. Whoever the past owner of the coat was had awful penmanship. The two couldn’t tell if what they saw was more of a G or an L. If one squinted right it could look like an S, maybe?

“Yeah, good luck with tracking down whoever that is,” Sun quipped.

She put it back on without much deliberation, it was a nice article which she intended not to waste. Ren and Nora were on the other end of the bench, with Ren looking down the length of the hall in his signature silence, and Nora passed out against his shoulder in what Sun called a food coma. The two would probably be moving on when she awoke, their search far from over. Blake intended to get a move on as well. She thanked Ren for their help, which he acknowledged with a sincere nod. With Sun in tow, Blake made her way to the stairwell.

Just before the door to the flights, Sun had pulled her aside halting her steps. He looked a tinge surprised at the resolution on Blake’s face.

“You’re going look for Yang, aren’t ya?”

“Yeah,” she answered quietly.

“Well, in that case. Eighth floor would be a good place to start.”

“Thanks, Sun.”

Just as she was about to push open the doors, a feminine voice down the hall shouted, and to both Blake and Sun’s surprise, a familiar peer’s slouched form came into view. From a long distance, Blake could tell he wasn’t doing great. Nora had wrapped her arms around her leader with all her usual jovialness, and Ren even joined in. Sun remarked that he was happy for them, but Blake felt it radiating off the boy. Something was very wrong, but there wasn’t much time to dabble in other team’s affairs. Blake had a destination in mind.

“Good for them,” she said, more to herself as a way of concluding things and moving on despite the unwillingness of her feet.

It was when she looked over her shoulder that last time that she noticed Jaune Arc had his head in his hands, with his two team members inquiring about what happened. From the looks of things, he was pretty shaken up. Rather than dwell on it further, Blake decided she had more pressing matters to attend to. With the conditions of her other two teammates known, that left only her partner to get eyes on. There was a certain pit, however, that seemed to grow ever downward the more flights she climbed.

The journey to the eighth floor snuck up on Blake despite her pace being slow. The floor itself was also very empty, and the heavy door shutting behind her left a sound that kicked around the halls long enough to keep her company for a few turns. There was a receptionist desk that acted as a hub for all traversing paths to converge. Unlike the nurse with a stick-up-her-ass from Blake’s ward, the receptionists here were very polite, albeit a bit snippy when dogged for repetition.

Through another maze of halls and turns and the occasional presence of other passersby, she found herself down a dead-end corridor. Something about planting her feet there let her know she was at the end of a long line, and she felt very tense suddenly. Blake drug her feet the remaining few yards, and her own footsteps became distant to her ears.

The doors were very simple here. Large and wooden like a wall, with one vertical opening just big enough to peer into with cold metal handles. Blake’s eyes shot down to the plaques by each door, and upon seeing a match her eyes careened up to the window.

Yang was okay, sitting upright staring off opposite the door. Breathing, occasionally moving her hair out of her face or so it appeared. Blake’s hand rested on the door handle, threatening to give it a turn, until she wrenched it free and turned heel. Without knowing why, nor really caring, Blake Belladonna made her way through the recesses of the hospital and out some back door.

* * *

She’d been walking for the better part of an hour, with the breeze whipping at her back threatening to sap the life out of her. The streets were dead, and any back alley that was open to her lilting form was game. Blake’s feet carried her nowhere in particular, they simply picked a direction and sprang into action as soon as she was a good ways away from the hospital.

The girl had kept her eyes down, hood drawn, and shoulders in. Quiet like a shadow, with only the scuffing of her heels across the cracked concrete. She was completely unto herself before she heard it. There was a crackling underfoot, causing her to halt. Stepping to the side, shards of glass were seen. That’s right, Blake was now in the thick of it. A ruined city. She took a sweeping glance around herself.

Windows were shattered, whole concrete infrastructure was crumbling with some having gashes so deep the rebar could be seen. The air was still dusty like the entire city was shaking from the aftermath itself. Blake never spent much time in Vale outside of the few excursions related to the Vytal festival and that one weekend with Sun. People used to walk the very same sidewalk she did, going about their very mundane lives. Somewhere inside she wondered what happened to all those people. Something about it took her breath away, yet she still found herself focusing on the path before her. Her mind knew to move, but her feet were stationary for a moment. Blake sighed as she finally pressed on.

From time to time the whirring of aircraft engines could be heard above, causing Blake to hold her breath and consciously fight the urge to duck into the nearest hiding spot. She allowed her steps to become more cautious with any sound, but always pushing to move forwards. Her eyes did the most work, falling over her shoulders and doing their best to convince her every shadow moving wasn’t some humanoid form.

What to do now was up in the air, and try as she might not to think about it she had run away again. That notion wriggled at the back of her mind like an incessant worm. Despite being preoccupied with ensuring she was unfollowed, it would weasel its way forward in the downtime between a strange noise or one-off glance. In the distance there was the sharp cry of an ambulance, causing her heart to flutter in her chest. Blake found her pace had picked up subconsciously amid fighting herself. On a whim in hopes of some reprieve, she struck off in a random direction and found a small inlet in some ruinous building.

No footsteps, no wailing of any kind. Just some quiet.

Her hands immediately met her temples as the mental chatter came back with vengeance.

This was not okay, far, far from okay. Blake wasn’t stupid, she knew damn well what she’d just done. A penchant for running at the first sign of conflict, this was just history repeating itself. She could almost laugh at how much she loathed it. Blake supposed the saving grace was ensuring everyone else’s wellbeing, but deep down that was just a flimsy defense to make her feel like less of a deserter.

“ _Coward_ ,” she whispered, voice steeped in conviction.

She gave a heavy sigh, pressing the heels of her hands on her eyes for just a moment. Blake smothered the hysterics in favor of the more pressing issue. Just where was she to go in the midst of everything falling to pieces like this? As relentless as her mind was, insane was not an option.

_Anywhere but here._

In the silence, there was a scraping noise. Reflexively, Blake had Gambol Shroud drawn in an instant. Whipping around, the business end met a wide pair of ruddy-colored eyes. The culprit flinched, hastily throwing hands up in surrender.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he declared urgently.

Blake stood her ground, tightening her grip on her weapon for good measure before looking him up and down. Strange choice of reactionary words, but otherwise he was just a kid. He looked to be younger than herself, about a head shorter and stocky. He had messy hair stuffed under a beanie, and street clothes lightly dusted from debris. Something told her this kid wasn’t as helpless as would first appear.

Blake narrowed her eyes, shifting to have her side face him. She’d be the one to do the hurting if he tried anything. His hands stayed put, with only his eyes shooting from weapon to wielder for a minute or two. When Blake grew tired of his antics, she took a tentative step forward with sword poised a little higher.

To her surprise, the blade was met with a push to the side with the palm of a hand. Some confusion spread across her features, which was caught by the other party. He had a faint smirk across his face.

“I don’t have a weapon, so this wouldn’t be an even match.” His eyed hovered over her weapon before looking squarely into hers.

Blake’s grip dipped a bit, still maintaining the same stance just in case. The question of if he was with anyone hung in the back of her mind. Had she walked into some kind of ambush? Certainly, this kid wouldn’t have the gall to pull something like this without some kind of ulterior motive. With her clearly nonplussed, he gave his last shot.

“I wouldn’t be able to keep up with a huntress anyways.”

Blake persisted, still waiting for something. She wasn’t exactly sure what. The kid brought a hand to the back of his head, shifting into a more casual stance. He muttered something to himself before locking eyes with her once more.

“It’s like talking to a wall, geez,” bringing his hands up once more and gesturing. “I mean you no harm, I’m just tryin’ to find something,” the kid gave an earnest shrug. Inclined as she was to give an inkling of credence to his honesty, it was the offhanded comment that followed which abated that chance. “Are _all_ huntsmen this paranoid?”

Blake lowered her weapon, taking a slight terse step back and glancing around. She also took a moment to listen to the ambience for any disturbance to indicate they weren’t alone. With enough to allay her anxieties for a moment, she turned her attention to finally humoring this guy.

“I’m not a huntress.”

Everything about his face stated he was nothing less than unconvinced of her answer. He merely shrugged. “Woulda had me fooled if it weren’t for those reflexes.”

Some assertiveness crept into her tone, less of a question and more of a demand.

“ _Who are you?_ ”

“A civilian. I’m trying to get somewhere, out of here preferably. I was thinkin’ maybe someone like you would know,” he gestured to her weapon. “Ya know, huntress.” Kid did have a point, normal people didn’t walk around with statement pieces quite like that. It _was_ an easy conclusion to draw.

“Again, not a huntress,” Blake shook her head faintly, tightening her grip on her weapon. “Were you following me?”

“Noted. And I _wasn’t_ ,” his insistence came with an urgent wave of the arms. “I just saw you duck in here, thought I’d follow and ask you _nicely_. Wrong person I guess…”

Blake made a noise to vaguely acknowledge him. This was going nowhere. Whatever her precautions were, this kid wasn’t a threat. Just some nitwit that had a bad knack for mouthing off. Part of her found it a little amusing at the idea she had a sixth sense for brats. As if to prove a point, the kid kept on running his mouth.

“Look, I dunno what you’re doing out here… And I could frankly care less,” that last part was almost under his breath. Blake merely shot him miffed look, a gentle reminder that her patience was due to expire. The kid finally spat it out after feigning to clear his throat. “Do you know anything or not?”

Blake inhaled sharply, cocking her head with a less than amused look. “Go southeast. I’ve heard something about a relief effort going on there.”

Petulantly, he rolled his eyes with a forced sigh. “You could’ve just answered with that off the bat and I’d of been out of your hair. Well, bye...”

She sheathed her weapon, now standing akimbo. Blake’s annoyance had grown a measurable degree, translating into a twist in her features; along with what looking back was an ill-advised near shout of: “Some thanks would be nice.”

Her company visibly flinched at that, stopping dead in his tracks to whip around and nearly give her a piece of his mind. Blake, too, would have loved to lay into some stranger were it not for the massive Creep mulling about the road that caught both their attention.

Its back was turned though it whipped around sniffing the air. Blake dropped to a crouch, motioning for the kid to follow suit. With all the elegance of a Beacon first-year, he scrambled to place his back against the wall, causing some dust to stir. His breathing was ragged and loud. Blake managed to steal a glance over the break in the wall. The Creep had made its way across the street completely, heavy nails dragging across the concrete and sniffing about the building. It was a few yards away, and Blake felt her skin prickling. Beside her, the kids breathing was getting more harsh and heavy, clearly nervous from lack of experience.

She couldn’t blame him though, civilians had little exposure to creatures of Grimm. He shuddered out a sigh, a little too loud for her liking. The shuffling behind the wall came to a halt.

The beast behind made a small trilling noise, steps becoming louder as it closed the space. Blake snaked an arm around the kid’s head and clamped his mouth shut. Impromptu and inappropriate, but a decisive effort on her part to keep them both alive. The kid wound up shaking his head trying to pry his face free from the cinch, resulting in Blake careening his head around so he could see her plead to be quiet with her index finger pressed to her lips.

The pair sat there, sequestered behind the wall at the mercy of chance for this Creep to go about its business. Blake was preoccupied with listening.

This wasn’t good. First the grand idea of leaving the hospital with no plan, and now she was cornered with a monster at her back and a bystander to boot. Kid was halfway to a panic attack, too, with all his twisting against her grip. She had her head pitched to the side, ears on high alert for anything that could signal a break. Blake tensed her hand for a moment, deciding now was the time to brief the anxious member of the group. She was wrapped up in the micromanaging of it all when a sharp jolt ran through her hand.

She recoiled instantly, pulling her hand free. There was an impression of teeth on her hand, and before she could yell every insult in the book at the kid, it dawned on her that their cover was indeed blown. The Creep rose tall and lunged over the wall.  
  
Grabbing the kid by the scruff of his hoodie, Blake managed to secure headway by a few feet with the sacrifice of a clone. Weaving their way through the building, the two hit the ground running with the behemoth bounding its way behind them.

Every other step or turn strained the stitches at her side, reminding her that she was in no condition to fight. Neither one was for that matter. Every heavy slam of the beast’s feet sent enough of a tremor up her spine to remind her there was no such thing as stopping.

The two rounded a block coming to a four-way intersection. Thinking quickly, she once more latched onto her company and struck out in a random direction. In its vigor, the Creep managed to lumber right past them before stopping abruptly. The pair managed to shuffle their way into a recess, masked by a dumpster. Blake’s hand moved to the nape of the kid’s neck drawing things to a halt. She pulled them both down eyes locked to the opening.

It circled back.

Long strides closed the space as it trekked into the alley, casting sharp glances to its sides. It paused a moment before turning heel. She then waited. Hand trembling, she released the equally quivering kid beside her. Daring to rise, Blake quickly surveyed the opening, listening intently for anything. It was silent. Her heart pounded out of her chest.

Blake was tired, her legs felt like they weren’t attached anymore. Dare she say, but she even felt sorry for the kid. He was braced against a wall, red in the face and shaking. Poor kid was completely speechless. She kept glancing over her shoulder to the opening between labored breaths.

Overhead came a screech from a blackbird, causing both to petrify. Blake’s vice-like grip held strong for several beats, sparing not a moment until she was back to frantically surveying. Things were silent once more, besides the shuddering sigh that came from her company.

“W-what was that thing?”

Her answer was to tighten her grip, head still poised forward. Blake could feel him trying to pull away, shaking ever so slightly. Something didn’t feel right. There was some small disturbance she could hear, but Blake couldn’t pinpoint exactly where. She figured he’d gotten the memo, until his breathing quickened.

“H-hey…!”

Blake whipped her head around with a prompt shush. His face twisted into something worrisome. Until she knew where it was coming from, they weren’t going anywhere. One could never be too careful, or so she told herself until a loud crash behind her caused her heart to drop.

The grimm plummeted from one of the adjacent buildings, settling into a low stance. The next minute was a fast one. The two immediately shot off back into the open street independently, with the Creep barreling toward them.

Running across the street, a network of alleys opened up. With no hesitation, the kid shot off on his own, feet pounding against the concrete in sheer terror. Blake had been less lucky, twisting and winding herself to a fenced in dead end.

Swallowing hard, she backtracked with her only her intuition to guide her. It was a maze of brick and pavement that all blurred into itself. She could swear she had begun to run in circles, and each successive strike of her footfalls began to echo more and more. Her foot had managed to snag on a trash bag sending her gait staggered. The faunus managed to catch herself and come to a stop.

There was a groan behind her. Blake did her best to stifle the trembling, and thinking quickly, she rounded the corner to find a fire escape hanging on within a few inches of its life. It was going to be loud, and it was going to hurt. But those were later problems. Hooking Gambol Shroud onto one of its loose limbs, she stood back in wait.

There was a low, curious trilling. Those familiar footsteps persisted until its heavyset form came around the bend. It happened fast, wasting no time getting ready to pounce. Blake quickly wrenched the ribbon of her weapon down, shredding through the last support holding the fire escape to the dregs of the building. The structure came careening down and a shock of pain wracked her side from overuse. Stumbling to collect her firearm through swimming vision, the dark form growing from the dust left her aghast.

Priming for an initial attack had been a feint, this creep knew her intentions. Before she could think straight it began to scale the debris. Her ears were ringing, and all she could think to do was run. Blake mustered up enough fear to kick up another clone to save herself as the beast made landfall.

She ran completely numb. And by some cosmic roll of the dice, or just dumb luck, Blake found him.

Kid had his hands held high, signaling for her. He gestured towards an open window several feet above, the relief was soon abated as her steps quickened. She could hear it.

Despite the trilling growing ever louder and Blake’s very nerves pounding in her ear, she managed to hoist the kid up towards the window and climb her way in.

She’d never shut a window so fast in her life.


End file.
